


karen of the bells

by steviewrites



Series: jaren [2]
Category: Mean Girls - Richmond/Benjamin/Fey
Genre: Angst, Crushes, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Family Issues, First Kiss, Fluff, Holidays, Loneliness, Post-Divorce
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:54:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21515944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steviewrites/pseuds/steviewrites
Summary: janis offers to take a lonely karen to a cherished holiday event.
Relationships: Janis Sarkisian/Karen Smith
Series: jaren [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1520606
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	karen of the bells

**Author's Note:**

> the fact my holiday stories begin exactly on december first is very satisfying to me. tis the season ♡
> 
> (also no, i did Not write this just because the title is a pun. anyway.)
>
>> **content warnings:**   
divorce   
absent father

Karen would be enjoying her sad-girl-at-Christmastime Hallmark movie moment a lot more if her problem could be fixed as quickly as it would in said movie.

Sighing, she peels away from the window and draws her curtains, going to curl up under her duvet with her plethora of stuffed animals. After pouting for what she thinks is an acceptable amount of time, she grabs her phone off the nightstand and opens her texts, hoping her dad changed his mind.

Unfortunately, there isn’t a follow-up message from Mr. Smith, and she has yet to reply to the one that sent her into a dramatic, teary spiral. Chest heavy with disappointment and rejection, she finally types out an answer, putting as much faux understanding and cheeriness into it as possible. Because, even now, after the year her parents have put her through, she doesn’t want to make him feel bad.

Karen _knows _he’s halfway across the world on very important business, but—maybe a little selfishly, at least that’s how it seems—she should be _more _important. Both him and her mom have taken her to see Santa and the reindeer every year since she was only a few months old. The fact he chose this week to be gone and for a nasty cold to inflict itself upon her mother is just plain rude, in Karen’s opinion.

She tucks her face into her unicorn Pusheen when she starts thinking about how happy they were this time last year. Sure, her parents were in couples therapy, and Regina was snapping at everyone because she hadn’t had any protein in so long—but Santa and his reindeer were in town, a few weeks early, to greet the kids and take gift requests. Karen was the oldest and tallest person there who wasn’t chaperoning a younger sibling, and it meant the world.

It’s something Karen looks forward to every year. Not just because she loves visiting Santa and feeding the reindeer carrots, but it’s family time. Time her dad used to make for them.

There’s a wave of anger then, a sensation she’s unused to. She doesn’t like getting mad at anyone for any reason; it feels wrong, an emotion she doesn’t consent to. Rage doesn’t sit well in her stomach or heart or lungs. It makes her feel like a different person, someone her parents became in the final months of their helpless marriage.

Karen knows she could just go alone, but there’s no fun in that. She’ll just be standing there, surrounded by disgruntled but still together parents with their overjoyed children, and it won’t be or feel the same because it just isn’t without her own mom and dad.

She doesn’t understand why it had to happen to them. Her whole childhood they were so in love and present with each other, no matter how often Mr. Smith had to go away for work. Karen admired them and dreamed of having a relationship like theirs one day. Now she dreams of better, cozier times where they’re sitting in front of the fire by their glamorous tree, sipping her mom’s cocoa, and just being happy.

Now Karen and her mother reside in a smaller home, with a considerably shorter tree in their living room, and where her dad’s car will never park in the driveway. His headlights won’t shine around the corner and light up the street. Karen will never run out to greet him at the curb. The only cars left belong to her and her mom, and are currently out of the snow in the garage, which holds only a quarter of the organized mess their old one did.

The house is beautiful, Karen won’t deny that. But it doesn’t feel like home yet.

She gradually falls asleep, pondering if it ever will, her heart weighed down by her grief, the loss of her family.

* * *

Karen hasn’t just mastered the art of self-expression through emojis. She’s also gotten pretty good at coordinating her outfits with her moods, especially now that Regina isn’t breathing down her neck, forcing her to only wear this or that.

So when she walks into school that Wednesday, bundled in layers of grey and black and not a single shade of pink in sight, she gets a lot of weirded out and mildly concerned looks. Even Gretchen seems hesitant to approach her at lunch, holding a peppermint mocha in both hands. Karen accepts hers glumly as Gretchen cautiously sits down beside her at the empty table. Karen can feel the curious and worried stares from her band geek friends, but Gretchen is basically the only person she wants to talk to today.

As Gretchen wordlessly hugs her shoulder, Karen is suddenly overwhelmed with gratitude that despite everything that’s happened since this spring, at least she still has her Gretch. That will never change.

That reality is partially crushed, however, when Karen tells her about her current predicament and Gretchen has to break it to her gently that she can’t accompany her.

Karen blinks at her, almost burning her tongue in shock. “What?” she says blankly, feeling the last piece of her heart begin to chip away.

Gretchen looks sincerely apologetic, dark eyes shining with guilt and sadness for her friend. “I’m going out of town this weekend, too,” she explains. “My family’s all going away to see our relatives for Hanukkah and New Year’s.”

Karen swallows thickly, not necessarily upset with Gretchen but unable to not feel abandoned at the same time. She nods, though, because she can’t argue with that.

“Why don’t you ask Cady?” Gretchen suggests, nodding towards the art freaks, who are messing around with holiday filters on Snapchat, not a care in the world.

Karen sighs. “I dunno. Maybe.”

Gretchen nudges her encouragingly. “Come on. I’m sure they’d all want to go, actually. They’re the easiest people to please. I mean, look at them.”

Damian is evidently thrilled about his modified reflection, and Janis is laughing so hard she’s about to choke on her chocolate milk. Cady is making a funny face as she takes a selfie. Karen has to agree with Gretchen then—a trio of lovable weirdos like them would probably be happy to get invited anywhere.

There’s this nervous little pang in Karen’s chest when her eyes linger on Janis, who has one tight-clad leg folded on the bench, and her side cut shows off her new cartilage piercing. A snowflake earring dangles from that same ear, catching the light of the fluorescents.

Karen gets so captivated she doesn’t notice Gretchen noticing, then sip her coffee with a tiny smirk on her face.

“Okay, I’ll ask them,” Karen ultimately gives in, not having needed much coaxing.

“That’s the Christmas spirit,” Gretchen approves delightedly. “Not that I would know.”

Karen leaves her coffee in Gretchen’s care, then bravely marches over to the art freaks.

Cady leaps up to hug her, then makes room on her and Janis’s bench for her to sit. Damian and Janis appear surprised, but not wary like they used to at a Plastic’s presence. Karen is glad Cady could be the bridge between the two groups. She’s friends with just Cady, but knows she’s welcome here without the fear of Damian and Janis—understandably—dismissing her.

“So, um.” Karen drums her nails against the tabletop, wishing she’d gone over a script in her head. She accepts a cheese fry when Cady offers, and munches it to stall.

“Why do you look like you raided my closet?” Janis pipes up humorously, and Karen glances down at her attire.

“Oh. Right.” Inexplicably blushing, she straightens her long cardigan and scratches her knee over the fabric of her black stockings.

“Whatcha need, Karen?” Cady inquires kindly, spooning pudding into her mouth. Now that Karen is here, being watched by a supportive Gretchen, she’s starting to regret not coming up with a plan prior. Her mind is doing that thing where it gets dark and foggy when she’s uncertain of herself.

“Um,” Karen repeats, briefly making eye contact with Gretchen, who gives her a thumbs up. She fidgets on the bench as she inhales, then says, with less confidence and pep than would be expected for her, “So, like, Santa Claus emoji, I have a question.”

“I’m scared,” Damian remarks instantly, and Cady gives him a dirty look.

Then she smiles again at Karen. “Shoot.”

Karen tosses her hair, pointedly avoiding Janis’s expectant gaze. “So, like, you know how Santa and his reindeer come to the mall every year?”

There’s a pause as they process this information, then each of them nod like Muppets, trying to be cooperative.

“Well, um,” Karen continues shyly, “my mom has a cold and my dad is out of town, and they usually take me…” She gulps, omitting the divorce part before she elaborates. “And Gretchen is going to see family, so I don’t have anyone and was hope—wondering if you guys would like to go on Saturday night.”

She can feel how red her face is, and how twisty her belly gets the longer Janis in particular looks at her. She has no idea why or when _that _started. Whatever _that _is.

“Aw, shoot,” Cady mutters remorsefully, and Karen’s heart sinks. “Damian and I are going to that midnight showing of _It’s A Wonderful Life_… It’s one night only, so we can only go that day.” She turns to Janis. “Jan, are you busy?”

“It—it’s okay,” Karen says quickly, rising from her seat. She’s seconds away from crying and wants to spare them that image—and herself of the embarrassment that’ll come with Janis agreeing to go out of pity. “It’s fine, you guys. No worries.”

“Oh, Karen—” Cady starts to say, reaching for hands that pull away like they’ve been burned.

“Nope, it’s, like, smiley face emoji,” Karen assures, though her voice cracks as she hurries for the cafeteria entrance.

“Karen!” Janis yells after her, and there’s the thud of those boots she always wears as she follows. Karen hiccups a sob as she pushes open the nearest bathroom door, Janis catching it before it can swing shut.

“Hey, I’ll go,” Janis pants, successfully seizing Karen’s wrist. Her grip is firm but gentle, her claw-like nails not as intimidating now that Karen sees they’re capable of softness.

“No, it’s fine,” Karen murmurs, swiping at her eyes. She tries to squirm away, aiming to seek refuge in a stall, because her defeat is more about the bigger picture.

“No, it’s not,” Janis argues, holding on tighter, and Karen is enticed into staying by the sheer warmth of her fingers around her cold wrist. Karen didn’t realize how chilled she was until now, and stays put, licking away her salty tears.

“I’ll just go by myself,” she mumbles, attempting to sound like she’s okay when it’s obvious, visibly and audibly, that she’s not. “It’s not a big deal, really. Shrug emoji.”

But she’s crying anyway, and her tears begin to spill over so fast she can’t quell them any longer. She leans into Janis unthinkingly, needing the comfort of a solid shoulder under her head if her mom is miles away, sneezing in bed.

For a moment Janis is frozen, but with ambivalence rather than disgust. Then her arm twines around Karen’s back, and she awkwardly yet tenderly holds her as she weeps.

If you told either of them a year ago they’d be this physically close, Karen would stare in confusion and Janis would pretend to gag. But now that it’s happening, it feels right.

Karen cries for only a few minutes, enough time to let it out and let herself feel. Janis doesn’t seem to mind, waiting patiently for her to pull it together. When she emerges from her oddly comfortable spot on Janis’s shoulder, Janis gets her some paper towel to dry her eyes with, and is respectfully quiet as she does so. Her expression is sympathetic, an uncharacteristic look for Janis Sarkisian to give a Plastic.

But that was then and this is now, and Karen honestly wouldn’t want anyone else’s shoulder.

She supposes kindness sometimes comes from unpredictable places.

“After that, you really think I’d let you go alone?” Janis says, grinning benevolently, and Karen laughs wetly.

She shakes her head. “It’s okay if you don’t want to. Don’t do it because you feel bad for me.”

“No,” Janis insists, frowning. “I’ll go. I haven’t seen Santa in a long ass time, but you shouldn’t have to go by yourself. I’m sorry your parents can’t go with you.”

Karen’s throat and chest tighten simultaneously, but miraculously doesn’t start crying again. She lifts a shoulder indifferently. Her stomach hurts and she wants to go home.

“I really don’t mind,” Janis presses. “I’ll be bored at home while Damian and Caddy are out on Saturday, anyway. You’d be doing me a favor.”

Karen sniffs, finally lifting her eyes to meet Janis’s. “Are you sure?”

“Totally.” Janis punches her arm, ever so lightly, and Karen just gets the sense she means it, and it isn’t because she pities her.

“Well, thank you,” Karen tells her, grabbing her hand and squeezing. “Smiling face with hearts emoji, this is super nice of you.”

Janis almost looks flustered by the hand holding. “No problem. I still haven’t written Santa so I guess this gives me the perfect opportunity to go talk to him.”

Now Karen bites back a laugh, not wanting to hurt her feelings. It’s not her place to tell Janis the truth if it makes her happy. (It’s not _really_ Santa, the guy at the mall just works for him.)

“Oh, well, of course,” she agrees, nodding. “Me, too.”

Their hands are still connected, she realizes, and lets go self-consciously.

“Um, anyway.” She clears her throat, cheeks warm again. “Is six o’clock on Saturday okay?”

“Yeah,” Janis nods. “Perfect. Uh—do you wanna swap numbers? Just so, y’know, you can text me your address and stuff.”

Karen is already pulling out her phone. “Like, phone emoji, house emoji, yes!”

* * *

Karen feels positively jolly by Saturday evening, spending more time than is probably necessary on her eye makeup and outfit. She just wants to look cute for Santa, is all. She has to make a good impression. For the nineteenth time.

Her mother has migrated from her room to the sofa, and while the nasty parts of her cold have begun to subside, she still isn’t well enough to tag along. She’s sipping tea when Karen comes down the steps, and tells her she looks adorable.

“Thank you,” Karen chirps, plopping down next to her. “I’m so excited.”

Her mom hums and pats her knee, pleased to hear that. “It was nice of your friend to offer to go with you. What’s her name again?”

“Janis.” The corners of Karen’s glossed mouth quirk around the shape of Janis’s name.

Ms. Smith touches her daughter’s chin, a mournful look entering her eyes. “I’m sorry I can’t take you,” she says softly, and Karen’s holiday spirit is dampened once again. “And that your father couldn’t come home in time. I know he’s probably disappointed, too.”

Karen fidgets uncomfortably. “It’s okay. It worked out.”

Her clipped, faux satisfied tone silences her mother, who takes the hint not to say more. Karen gets up then, fussing over her and wanting to be sure she’s warm enough and has snacks and tea while Karen is gone. Karen might not be booksmart, but she understands the importance of a fireplace and cough drops at your disposal when battling a winter cold.

Karen is adjusting the logs when the doorbell rings, and nearly drops the poker on her foot. She hurries to the foyer, pausing to flatten her already satiny hair before opening the door.

“Hi!” she greets cheerfully, and a smile she’s never seen before splits across Janis’s face. It nearly takes Karen’s breath away, something she’s getting accustomed to whenever Janis so much as pops into her head.

“Hey,” Janis replies in kind. Karen wonders how she’s going to stay warm in her classic gothic attire, long legs still exposed to the cold despite her tights, but doesn’t want to criticize. Janis seems pretty self-reliant. Karen admires that.

“Oh, come in!” Karen steps aside to let her in, and Janis quickly stomps the snow off her boots before crossing the threshold timidly. She waves back at Ms. Smith when the older woman offers the friendly gesture.

“Mommy, this is Janis,” Karen announces excitedly, tugging Janis over by the wrist. “I’d have you guys shake hands but, sneezing face emoji, Mom’s got a cold.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Janis says politely around a laugh at Karen’s childlike buoyancy. Karen doesn’t get the sense she’s being judged, though.

“You as well, sweetie,” Ms. Smith answers. “Thank you so much for going with Karen, seeing Santa and the reindeer mean a lot to her.”

“Oh, no problem,” Janis replies with a shrug. “It’s fun. I haven’t done it in a few years, so. We’ve never hung out before, either, so it seemed like a good idea.”

Karen hums and briefly nestles her head on Janis’s shoulder in agreement. “Yup. Okay, well, we better go, or the line is gonna be _sooo _long…”

They say their goodbyes, Ms. Smith reminding them to stay warm, and to call if Karen needs anything. Karen says the same, because her mom has a cold, for goodness’ sake, and zips up her puffy jacket after locking up the door.

“You look cute,” Janis compliments, and Karen blushes.

“Thank you. Snowflake emoji, aren’t your legs gonna get chilly?” she asks, concerned, though may or may not be using the question as an excuse to get a better look at Janis’s legs.

“Nah.” Janis smirks, twirling her car keys around her finger, and Karen believes her.

The twenty-minute drive to the mall is uneventful save for a mild argument about whether or not “Last Christmas” is an overrated song or not. Karen can’t believe what she’s hearing, but Janis’s rebuttal is that she hears it year-round thanks to Damian’s George Michael obsession.

The mall parking lot is somehow already packed, and Karen gets a thrum of anxiety. Just her luck, they won’t be able to go at all because there’s nowhere to park. It’s a grueling couple of minutes as Janis determinedly drives around, but Karen heaves a sigh of relief when she finally finds a spot.

“I’d drive directly into the mall if I could get away with it if it meant you’d see Santa,” Janis says jokingly, and while Karen laughs, she’s genuinely touched by the sentiment. If it came down to it, she’s certain Janis would.

They stay close to each other during the trek to the actual building, and Karen fights the urge to take the other girl’s hand, albeit innocently.

She does a happy dance as they enter through Macy’s, and while Regina would scoff at her and immediately haul her over to the shoes, Janis regards her with fondness.

“Lead the way, missy,” she instructs, and now Karen grasps her fingers, leading her through the brightly lit department store to the first floor of the mall. As predicted, it’s packed, bundled up shoppers carrying multiple bags and warm Starbucks coffee and toddlers crying because of their traumatizing visit to see the man in red.

“They’ll get used to it,” Karen murmurs to Janis as they walk by a particularly distressed little girl wailing about how scary his beard is.

Karen doesn’t realize their hands have stayed linked until she notices an older woman giving them a funny look, and her heart breaks out of sympathy—and maybe a twinge of guilt—when Janis disconnects them, her jaw tight with something Karen can only think of as fear.

“Can we sit for a minute?” she inquires under her breath after they’ve passed the judgy lady.

“Of course,” Karen says amiably, and they make it to a sitting area where there’s luckily an open couch. “You want cookies or cocoa or something?”

Janis appears sheepish, unused to someone other than Damian or Cady wanting to take care of her. “Uh, sure,” she replies, sounding like she’s forcing herself to comply—not for Karen’s sake, but her own.

Karen gives her a minute to herself and waits in line for their snack, returning with a bag of chocolate chip and sugar cookies.

“Cheers!” She holds hers up, and Janis taps her gooey cookie to Karen’s. Karen understands why the mall at Christmas might be overwhelming for people who don’t often go even during any other time of year, so she’s happy to munch on cookies until Janis feels better. After all, it’s the least she can do. Janis very kindly offered to join her today.

Soon they’re on their way again, hands brushing but not intertwined. Janis is quiet, but it isn’t awkward. Karen can be chatty, but doesn’t feel the need to fill the space between them with noise. It’s a content, secure silence. She’s never really had that with someone before, not even with Gretchen.

A rush of childlike joy fills Karen to the brim when they finally come upon Santa, seated in the sleigh parked in the middle of the mall, a stunning tree behind its curved back and reaching to the balcony overhead. The ornaments are different every year, and Karen is entranced by the purple and white baubles dangling from the faux branches.

“Oh no, where are the reindeer?” Janis wonders aloud, sounding equal parts disappointed and worried, like she’s afraid Karen will burst into tears if the reindeer aren’t here.

“They’re outside, see?” Karen points to an exit to their right, where people are trailing out to visit the reindeer pen set up in the parking lot. That’s why this is such a big deal: for one night only, Santa and his reindeer come visit the mall, because they can’t be standing out there in the cold for days on end.

Janis seems relieved, and Karen finds it cute. They take their place in line, Karen leaning around people to get a better look at Santa.

“Whatcha gonna ask for?” Janis asks, genuinely curious.

If Karen were several years younger and in a bittersweet scene of the Hallmark movie that is not quite her life, she’d sadly tell Santa she wants her parents to get back together. But now that she’s here, this surprisingly nice girl by her side, she thinks of something else.

“It’s a secret,” she answers impishly, and Janis raises an eyebrow, but grins.

The wait is long, but they entertain themselves by taking hypothetical bets on which kids will cry. There’s so much giggling and anticipation between them that Karen doesn’t even think about how her parents are usually with her.

“Will you go with me?” she asks when they’re next in line, and Janis looks surprised.

“To talk to him?” Karen nods. “Well, sure,” Janis agrees, slipping her hand into Karen’s again, and they squeeze at the same time.

The jolly man greets them with as much love and enthusiasm as he just did the last first grader, and Karen plops herself down on his lap, Janis observing on the sleigh’s step.

Rather than appearing embarrassed and fidgety, Janis’s expression is soft and amused as Karen rambles to Santa, listing off the basic stuff on her fingers like she’s done every year before. She also asks for a pony—a lifelong dream she has yet to give up on.

“And one more thing,” she adds, cupping his ear to whisper her final wish.

Santa looks surprised at first, glancing between her and Janis, who has no clue. Then he nods his grave understanding and says, “I think I can make that happen.”

Then Karen all but pulls Janis into the sleigh so she can be a part of the picture, because it wouldn’t be complete without her.

Janis asks for a giant box of crayons, in full seriousness, then whispers a secret of her own that makes Karen’s insides feel fuzzy. Selfishly, she hopes it’s the same wish.

After they retrieve their glossy printed pictures, they get in line to see the reindeer, shoulders pressed close and voices hushed between them like they’re in their own little bubble.

It feels different than if Gretchen were here, or even Cady. Karen welcomes it, refusing to be afraid. She’s had a lot of fear and doubt this year—she won’t allow it to creep back in and ruin this good day.

The reindeer are warm and fuzzy, supervised by suspiciously tall elves. Their red collars bear their signature names, with bells that jangle sweetly when they shake their antlers. Karen has always loved the bells in particular, a small detail that makes her happy.

They take pictures of each other petting the reindeer, Janis snapping a funny one of Karen ducking out of the way before Comet can poke her with his antler.

“He nearly impaled me,” Karen laments as they walk back to Janis’s truck. Janis snorts, and now that they’re out of the crowd, slips her hand back into Karen’s, whose heart lurches like a cartoon character’s.

“So?” Janis questions as she adjusts the heat. “Another successful visit?”

“Absolutely,” Karen sighs contentedly, smiling down at the photos in her lap.

“It’s still early,” Janis comments after a pause in which she looks at Karen looking at their silly Santa pictures. “You wanna grab dinner?”

“Pancakes,” Karen blurts instantly, stomach growling. “I want pancakes.”

Janis grins broadly. “Pancakes it is, then.”

* * *

“That was a fun time,” Karen murmurs as Janis stalls the truck in her driveway.

“Very fun,” Janis agrees, nudging her playfully.

In the dim light of the cab, Karen is glad Janis can’t see her blushing again.

Janis follows her to the door despite it being a literal several foot walk. It’s beginning to snow, and under the porch light Karen can see a few flakes clinging to Janis’s ombré hair.

Janis is truly gorgeous. Karen wishes she’d realized it sooner.

“You good?” Janis inquires, for Karen has yet to pull out her keys.

Karen doesn’t answer with words, instead choosing the more Hallmark movie route by closing the gap between them with a kiss. They’re the same height, so unfortunately there isn’t a tippy-toes requirement, but it works nonetheless. Janis makes a funny little sound in her throat, hands leaving the warmth of her jacket pockets to hold Karen’s elbows.

It’s brief, but sweet, and Karen’s lips tingle when they part. There’s no time for a dramatic pause, because Janis is cradling her jaw now and pulling her back.

Admittedly, it’s not Karen’s first kiss with a girl, but it is with one she likes. And Janis is a very good kisser for someone who’s probably never done it before. Gentle but firm, like her grip on Karen’s wrist on Wednesday; determined, yet soft.

And Karen can practically hear it, the explosion of noise inside her, like a hundred bells going off at once. Chiming and clanging joyfully against her racing heart and ribcage.

_Santa’s magic sure works fast, _she thinks distantly, as the snow continues to fall, and the closeness of Janis’s body keeps her warm. The familiar feeling of loss in her chest melts away, replaced by a small but steady flame of comfort and happiness.

Maybe she got her perfect Christmas Hallmark movie moment after all.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! kudos and comments are fetch ♡
>
>> **find me:**   
[twitter](https://twitter.com/wantingmylove)   
[tumblr](https://cadyjanis.tumblr.com)


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